


If I Die Young...

by VampireMadonna



Category: Kpop - Fandom, SEVENTEEN (Band), Seventeen (Kpop)
Genre: Brief Mention of Suicide, Character Death, First Time, Illness, M/M, One Night Stand, adorkably awkward seungcheol, angel jeonghan, heed the death tag dammit!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-09
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-05-05 18:21:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5385794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampireMadonna/pseuds/VampireMadonna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whether it was fate or coincidence that brought them together, Seungcheol and Jeonghan gave each other exactly what they needed, even if it was just for one night...</p>
            </blockquote>





	If I Die Young...

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a character in the first episode of Chicago Med. Title taken from The Band Perry's song of the same name.

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?”

“I can’t leave yet. It’s only…” He checked his watch quickly. “…11:30. The night is still young.”

A cocked brow and sardonic twist of lips met his response. “And so are you.”

He was pouting, he could feel it, but he couldn’t help it. “ _Hyung_. Come on. I’m twenty-one years old, thank you very much! And the late night crowd will come rolling in soon and who knows. Ms. Right…”

“Or _Mr._ ”

Seungcheol rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that too.” It wasn’t that he had a problem with his bisexuality. He was fine with it. His parents and friends knew and accepted it; it just wasn’t something he shouted from the rooftops so he unconsciously tended to lean towards the hetero side of his proclivities when any mention of it arose in public. “Anyway, he, she it, they: I honestly don’t care at this point. _Someone_ might come along and even if they aren’t _the one_ , they could be for tonight at least.”

He refused to think about the possibility of striking out. Confidence was the key to everything, wasn’t it?

His ex had done quite a number on his self-esteem, not only cheating on and then leaving him for the other guy but making it seem like it was _his_ fault that she’d ended up cheating in the first place. For a while, he’d thought it was. No one’s assurance that she didn’t deserve him swayed his ever-sinking opinion of himself. Eventually, he’d dug himself out of his pity-pit and accepted that he really was better off without her. Not because she didn’t deserve him but because when it came down to it, she wasn’t that nice of a person anyway and anyone who could cheat and then put the blame on him wasn’t someone he wanted to be with in the long run, and she definitely wasn’t someone whose opinion should count.

He’d brushed himself off, picked himself up and attempted to get back into the dating world, all to no avail. The girls he met simply didn’t see him as a love interest. That really didn’t help matters on the self-esteem front.

After watching one too many rom-coms and reading dating columns online, he’d finally decided to go out and tackle the problem head-on and what better place than a hot night club? The fact that a close family friend who he’d known his entire life worked there was a blessing, otherwise he might never have gotten in. He’d never been what one would consider trendy or sophisticated and his wardrobe certainly reflected that.

Being the un-cool dude that he was, Seungcheol had arrived at the club at 8:00pm, which he’d later learned was _way_ too early, and parked his ass on a stool at the bar. It was a good thing he’d decided to come alone. His friends really didn’t need to witness this embarrassing adventure firsthand.

Jinwoo-hyung, God bless him, had the patience of a saint and had listened to his rants about singlehood while keeping an eye on Seungcheol’s alcohol consumption – he was a light-weight drinker at best – and carrying out his bartending duties.

Pausing in front of Seungcheol after serving a customer, Jinwoo gave him a serious look and asked, “Okay, say you meet Ms. or Mr. Right-for-the-night. What then? Do you actually have a plan?”

Seungcheol blinked dumbly. He hadn’t really thought that far ahead, actually. He needed to meet someone first, then… Well, he hoped the rest would take care of itself.

Jinwoo scoffed, shaking his head. “I thought as much.” He picked up Seungcheol’s glass and refilled it with his preferred cocktail. “This is your last one. I’m cutting you off after this.”

“Hyung…” he began to protest but one arch of Jinwoo’s brow had him shutting up. _Look on the bright-side_ , he told himself, _at least the drinks were free_. Yes, there was that. “Nevermind.”

Seungcheol sipped on his drink for a bit, enjoying the tanginess of the fruit and the kick of the alcohol while his mind wandered.

_“Hi.”_

He jumped, spinning around so quickly that he almost slid off the leather seat of his stool. His eyes widened to frightening proportions when he saw who had spoken to him.

Had he died and gone to heaven without realizing it? ‘Cause as far as he knew, angels didn’t walk the earth.

The angel’s head tilted back, long blond hair glowing like a halo around his head in the club’s dimmed lighting, and a rich, husky laugh came out of his mouth. “No, I am very much an earth-walker since last I checked.”

Wait, had he said that out loud? _Geezus, Seungcheol!_

Sobering, though a smile still graced his pretty lips, the angel asked, “Mind if I sit here?”

“It’d be his pleasure,” Jinwoo answered, casting Seungcheol an amused glance.

“Thanks. I’m Jeonghan,” the angel greeted as he slid onto the stool beside Seungcheol, holding out his hand to him.

Seungcheol somehow managed to lift his own hand to shake Jeonghan’s but all that came out of his mouth was, “Uh…”

Jinwoo rolled his eyes and sighed exasperatedly. “I’m Jinwoo,” he stated, shaking Jeonghan’s hand as it was extended to him. He nudged his chin in Seungcheol’s direction. “The mute over here is Seungcheol.”

Jeonghan flashed a grin in Seungcheol’s direction as he said, “Pleasure to meet you both.”

“Likewise. Can I get you a drink? First one’s on the house.”

“Oh, wow. Thanks.” Jeonghan glanced over at Seungcheol’s glass and said, “I’ll have what he’s having.”

“Coming right up. Seungcheol…” Jinwoo’s voice hardened slightly on his name, drawing Seungcheol out of his stupefaction. “Why don’t you talk to Jeonghan while I get his drink ready?”

“Uh…yeah,” Seungcheol replied slowly, brain finally thawing. “I can do that.”

Jinwoo shook his head again before moving off down the bar.

Seungcheol briefly wondered why he would go all the way down to the other end when he already had a pre-mixed batch of Seungcheol’s cocktail, which was what he’d been pouring from all night. He soon realized that it was Jinwoo’s way of giving them some privacy. At least he wasn’t _that_ stupid.

“So…” The angel – _Jeonghan_ – began. “Do you come here often?”

Seungcheol took a moment before answering. He felt like he could just sit there and stare at Jeonghan all night. He still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that Jeonghan had sat next to _him_ of all people. Yet, he’d been praying for a miracle and one had literally walked in the door. He’d be a fool to waste the opportunity. Not to mention, Jinwoo-hyung might have him banned from the club for life if he did.

“No,” he finally replied, striving for cool and calm. “This is my first time.”

Jeonghan smiled. “Yet you and the bartender are on a first name basis. You must be a very friendly guy.”

Seungcheol blushed. “Oh, uh, Jinwoo-hyung is a family friend. I’ve known him pretty much my whole life. I wouldn’t have been able to get in here otherwise.”

Jeonghan frowned slightly, looking confused. “Why’s that?”

Seungcheol laughed self-deprecatingly. “Come on, just look at me. Do I look like the kind of guy they’d let into a place like this?”

Jeonghan’s eyes swept over him from head to toe before meeting his again. His frown deepened.

“I don’t see anything wrong with you?”

His words came out more like a question than a statement and Seungcheol realized that Jeonghan’s confusion was completely genuine.

 _Geezus, is this guy a saint too?_ , he wondered.

Shaking his head, he laughed awkwardly and quickly changed the topic. “How about you? Is this your first time?”

Jeonghan nodded. “To be honest, I wasn’t sure they’d let me in either. I guess I lucked out, especially since I don’t even have I.D. on me. If they’d carded me, I would’ve been screwed.”

Seungcheol suppressed a scoff. There was no way in hell that Jeonghan would’ve been rejected, not looking the way he did. He suspected that Jeonghan was utterly unaware of his own appeal, though. It was a strange quality to come by in someone who looked the way he did.

“Here you go,” Jinwoo announced, setting a large glass – larger than any he’d made for Seungcheol all night, hmmph! – in front of Jeonghan. “Enjoy.”

Jeonghan smiled widely. “Oh, wow. I didn’t expect it to be so big.”

“That’s what they all say,” Jinwoo quipped with a wink.

Seungcheol burst out laughing at the joke but quickly reined himself in when he saw the shy blush on Jeonghan’s face. Where had this boy come from?

“I’ll be down at the end for the rest of my shift,” Jinwoo informed them. “Holler if you need anything else.”

“Thank you,” Jeonghan and Seungcheol said in unison, eliciting giggles from both of them.

“So what are you doing here?” Seungcheol asked, taking a sip of his drink though his eyes remained glued to his new companion.

Jeonghan sighed, poking at his frosty drink with his straw. “Do you want the truth or a generic, polite answer?”

“I find that the truth is usually the best way to go,” Seungcheol replied without hesitation.

Jeonghan seemed surprised by his response but pleased, which warmed Seungcheol inside.

“Well…My parents are forcing me to go somewhere that I don’t want to go tomorrow, somewhere I know I’ll hate with every fiber of my being, and so I ran away tonight. I figure I deserve this one night of freedom if they’re going to completely strip me of my willpower come daylight.”

The phrasing was a bit odd and caused Seungcheol to pause for a moment but he figured he got the gist of it.

“I know what you mean,” he said. “A few years ago, my cousin Sena decided to get married and she wanted me to be a flower-boy. Can you believe that? A flower- _boy_. And on top of it all, I was sixteen years old. I said no, of course, even refused to go to the wedding but my parents wouldn’t have it. My mom said to think of it as my gift to her. I had no choice but to go but I don’t think I smiled the entire day. Except for maybe when I was eating. The food was pretty damn good, I’m not going to lie.”

Jeonghan watched him silently for a long moment, face completely blank and Seungcheol wondered if he’d just made a complete ass of himself. But then Jeonghan burst out laughing and it lit Seungcheol up inside the same way it lit up Jeonghan’s face.

He loved his laugh. He’d only heard it twice so far but he thought that he might be addicted to it already. It was so carefree and guileless, the way he tilted his head back when he did, his eyes scrunching up and mouth wide like he wanted to swallow the world, uncaring about how it made him look which, to be fair, he still looked amazing unlike mere mortals.

Catching Seungcheol staring at him, Jeonghan blushed prettily and inquired, “What?”

Seungcheol shook his head. “Nothing. People don’t usually find me that funny, I guess.”

Jeonghan smiled and it was the sweetest smile he’d ever seen. “I think you’re hilarious.”

“Thanks.”

They slipped into silence then but it was an easy one, the kind that you could break at any time by starting a new topic but didn’t necessarily want to because it was so comfortable.

Eventually, Seungcheol’s curiosity got the better of him and he started asking Jeonghan questions, like what his favourite movie was and what kind of music he was into.

They talked and talked, completely unaware of their surroundings, and it was honestly the most fun that Seungcheol had had in a long time. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so relaxed, no stress or worry about anything else disrupting his enjoyment of the moment. Jeonghan was just so easy to talk to. He was smart and witty and seemingly as much of a nerd as Seungcheol considered himself to be, just far better looking.

He’d be lying if he said that he wasn’t a little bit smitten.

“How are you two getting along over here?” Jinwoo asked as he suddenly appeared.

“Doing great,” Seungcheol replied, a wide smile on his face.

Jinwoo smiled back. “My shift’s about to end. Can I get you guys anything before I check out?”

Eyes widening, Seungcheol scanned his watch. It was already after 1:00am. Where had the time gone?

“Nothing for me, thanks,” Jeonghan said. “You’ve been far too generous already.”

Seungcheol nodded. “I’m good. I didn’t realize how late it was.”

“Night’s still young, Cheol-ah,” Jinwoo disagreed, his eyes sliding to Jeonghan quickly before meeting Seungcheol’s again. “You’ll just have to pay for your next drink is all.” Winking mischievously, he turned to Jeonghan this time. “It was great meeting you, Jeonghan. Hope it won’t be the last.”

“Me too,” Jeonghan agreed.

When Jinwoo left, Seungcheol suddenly felt self-conscious. Jinwoo’s words came back to him.

_Say you meet Ms. or Mr. Right-for-the-night. What then?_

He’d met Mr. Right-for-several-lifetimes but now he had absolutely no idea what to do with him.

If he was honest with himself, his best-case scenario had been picking up someone and maybe having a hot and heavy make-out session in the club’s bathroom, a hand-job if he was lucky. He’d never allowed himself to consider anything more. Jeonghan, though… He was way out of his league. He didn’t know how he’d managed to interest someone like Jeonghan for as long as he had but it didn’t take a genius to know that anything more than conversation was off the table. There was no way that Jeonghan would even want anything more from him.

“Seungcheol?”

Seungcheol jumped slightly, flushing with embarrassment for having been caught day-dreaming.

“Ah… It really is getting late,” he stammered, sliding off his stool. _Idiot!_ , he berated himself. _You absolute fool_.

“Oh. Do you have to go?”

“Well…I don’t _have_ to. I just…”

“I was thinking of taking a walk down to Han River,” Jeonghan interjected, coming to his feet as well. “I haven’t been there in a long time. Do you want to join me?”

_Say what now?_

Seungcheol hadn’t been expecting that at all. Rather than being tired of his company, Jeonghan actually wanted to spend _more_ time with him. Had he saved a Queen in a previous life or something?

“Yes!” he exclaimed without thinking. Catching himself, he scratched the back of his neck and said a lot more coolly, “Yeah, sure. That sounds good.”

Jeonghan grinned, his eyes narrowing into cute crescents. “Great. I’m just gonna head to the bathroom for a minute, okay?”

“I’ll be here.”

Seungcheol snatched up his glass and downed the remainder of his drink. He was suddenly, unexplainably very thirsty.

“Where did Jeonghan go?”

Seungcheol jumped for what must be the millionth time that night. “Geezus, people really need to stop sneaking up on me,” he snapped, glaring at his friend.

Jinwoo grinned unapologetically and cocked a brow, waiting for an answer.

“He needed to use the bathroom before we left.”

“Oh?” Jinwoo’s other brow rose to meet the first one. “And where are you heading off to?”

“Han River.”

“That’s nice. Very romantic, looking at the water in the moonlight. Your idea or his?”

Seungcheol blushed. “His.”

Jinwoo’s eyes shone with amusement. “Very interesting.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Seungcheol demanded.

“Nothing. Not a thing.”

Jinwoo dug into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, extricating something before ordering Seungcheol to hold out his hand. When he did, not without an exasperated eye roll, Jinwoo slapped something into his palm and curled his fingers around it. When he looked down at his palm, he gasped. He looked around quickly to make sure that Jeonghan hadn’t returned and seen the exchange before staring at his friend dumbfounded.

“What the hell, hyung?!”

“Put it away, idiot,” Jinwoo chided.

“But…what…” Seungcheol stammered. “There’s no way that I’m going to need one of these.”

Jinwoo wiggled his eyebrows. “Wanna bet?”

Seungcheol’s blush deepened. “I have…stuff at home,” he muttered.

“Well, then, if you can get him home, you’ll be set, won’t you? But if not, at least you’ll be prepared. Win/win either way, right?”

Seungcheol couldn’t argue with that logic but it was Jeonghan’s return that had him stuffing the condom into his pocket and out of sight before the boy could notice.

“Ready to go?” Jeonghan queried, looking from one man to the other with a mild frown, as if he sensed that something was up.

“He’s ready,” Jinwoo answered for him. “Y’all have fun. Be careful, though. People have been known to get robbed down there.”

“I have no money for them to steal anyway,” Jeonghan quipped with an embarrassed giggle.

Seungcheol looked over at him in surprise.

“When I…left, I forgot to pick up my wallet,” Jeonghan explained. “Hence no I.D. or money. I even forgot my phone. Sneaking out without being caught was the main objective. I didn’t really think further than that.”

Seungcheol nodded. He could relate. It wasn’t unlike his plan to go hunting in the club. Thankfully, they’d both gotten lucky.

“Well, see you hyung,” Seungcheol said, bravely taking Jeonghan’s elbow to steer him through the crowd. Things had actually picked up, like he’d said they would. The place was packed.

“Call me later,” Jinwoo called after them.

“Will do!”

It took some pushing and tugging, Seungcheol ultimately being forced to put his arm around Jeonghan’s waist so that they wouldn’t be separated, but eventually they emerged onto the sidewalk.

By then they were both hot and sticky, Jeonghan’s long hair clinging to his forehead and neck.

“I really should’ve thought this through a little harder. I don’t even have a hair-tie,” Jeonghan bemoaned, pushing his hair off his neck with one hand and fanning himself with the other.

Seungcheol couldn’t help him there. That was something he’d never needed and didn’t foresee himself ever needing personally, though he occasionally used to carry a couple around his wrist for his ex since she always seemed to forget hers at home.

“Um…” Jeonghan turned in one direction, then the other, his predicament clear. “You’re going to have to lead the way. I’m not sure I remember how to get there.”

Laughing softly, Seungcheol automatically reached for his hand, then caught himself. Instead, he settled for placing a hand at the small of Jeonghan’s back and guiding him in the right direction.

As they walked, they picked up their conversation from the club.

Seungcheol found out that Jeonghan was only a year younger than he, not in fact as young as he’d assumed he was, and he had an older sister.

“A couple years ago, I wanted to shave my head completely bald but my parents nixed that before the words even finished coming out of my mouth. So in an attempt to rebel, I decided to grow my hair as long as possible but that wasn’t much of a rebellion since my mother loves it so I got my sister to dye it for me. That sent mom through the roof. You should’ve seen her face when she walked in and saw me.” Jeonghan cackled at the memory.

Seungcheol smiled to himself. It was obvious that Jeonghan and his family were close and that, despite his parents’ interference, he obviously loved them a lot. It struck him as odd, though, how much control his parents seemed to have over him despite the fact that he was twenty years old. Seungcheol himself was only a year older but he was in university and lived on his own, though his parents did still support him financially. However, they’d stopped having a say in anything he did the minute he’d moved out.

He didn’t doubt that his mother would still try to exert her power over him if he still lived at home, though. Perhaps that was all it was.

By the time they reached Han River, Jeonghan had stopped sweating. In fact, he was shivering slightly, sniffling and coughing occasionally. Seungcheol offered him his jacket but Jeonghan refused, saying that he was fine and actually liked the cold.

As they walked along the river, Seungcheol took Jinwoo’s warning to be vigilant to heart, keeping an eye on anyone they passed along the way. Jeonghan chatted away carelessly, seemingly completely unawares.

Eventually they stopped at a bench and sat down, staring at the reflection of the moon on the water. It was an unusually clear night in Seoul. The stars seemed to have aligned to make this the best date – night, outing, _whatever_ – that Seungcheol had ever had.

It was easy to talk to Jeonghan and Seungcheol found himself spilling his entire life’s story. It made him realize just how lonely he really was and how long it had been since he’d had a real heart-to-heart with someone. Even when he was with his ex, back in the beginning when things were still good, she was the one that did most of the talking. He’d listened and she’d seemed to be happy with that. More proof that she hadn’t ever been a real girlfriend to him, he supposed. She’d never truly tried to get to know him.

Sitting beside Jeonghan and marveling at not just his looks but his amazing personality, Seungcheol had to wonder what he saw in her in the first place.

Jeonghan was still a bit of a mystery, though. For one thing, Seungcheol finally got a good look at him as they were walking and while Jeonghan was still the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen, he certainly wasn’t the most fashionable. In fact, Seungcheol could say without a doubt that even he had a better fashion sense, which no one who knew him would ever think possible. Jeonghan wore a simple tee beneath a plaid shirt and jeans but despite the fact that he was of decent height and had broad shoulders, his clothes completely hung on his frame. Not to mention, they were outdated. They obviously weren’t his. Hand-me-downs, maybe. Either that or he’d lost a considerable amount of weight and had yet to update his wardrobe. He understood now why Jeonghan might have been surprised that the bouncers let him in the club. Thank God for his face.

Another thing was that while he talked about some things openly and without reservation, there were other topics where he gave vague answers or spoke in such a way that Seungcheol couldn’t decipher his meaning.

For example, when Seungcheol asked him where his parents were sending him to and how long he’d be gone for. It was a pretty basic question, in his opinion. After all, if they were really enjoying each other’s company as much as he thought they were, and if the night ended well, then why wouldn’t they keep in touch? Maybe even arrange to go on a proper date next time.

“Where I’m going…there is no coming back. I’d rather not talk about it, if you don’t mind. I don’t even want to _think_ about it. Maybe when the sun comes up. Ask me again then and I’ll tell you.”

What was that supposed to mean? Where could he possibly be going that he couldn’t come back from? And as for waiting for when the sun came up, well… Did that mean that Jeonghan intended for them to spend the rest of the night sitting in the park staring at the water? Or was Jinwoo right and he had other things in mind? Seungcheol really wished he’d stop talking in riddles and just be frank about it.

Time passed and eventually silence fell between them once more. The gentle sloshing of the water on the river bank, the chill in the breeze, the chirp of the night insects and even Jeonghan’s persistent sniffle-cough were lulling Seungcheol to sleep. He was on the verge of dozing off when Jeonghan suddenly jumped up, startling him awake.

“So….are we ever going to get this show on the road?” he asked.

Seungcheol stared up at him blankly, a condition he was getting far too used to. “Huh?”

Jeonghan’s eyebrows arched in question. “Well…aren’t you going to invite me back to your place? Isn’t that how this is done?”

Was this reality? Was Jeonghan actually telling Seungcheol to take him home with him? Did that mean that he wanted to do…well, _stuff_ , with Seungcheol?

“You don’t have to if…” Jeonghan began, a small frown curling his lips, cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

“No!” Seungcheol screeched jumping up. “No. I mean yes. Yes, I’d…My place. Yes to that.”

He chuckled awkwardly and Jeonghan joined in. It was obvious that neither of them had any real experience with seduction or one-night stands.

Taking a deep breath, he grabbed Jeonghan’s hand. His grip might be a bit tight, he realized belatedly, but Jeonghan didn’t pull away or say anything so apparently he didn’t mind.

Jeonghan remained silent as Seungcheol led the way out of the park to the street and Seungcheol was grateful. He needed his wits about him if he was going to make it all the way home without saying or doing the wrong thing and chasing Jeonghan away with his lameness.

They needed to take the bus to get to his apartment but thankfully the ride was a short one. Jeonghan seemed content to look around while Seungcheol stewed in his nerves. He couldn’t help noticing that Jeonghan seemed so intrigued by everything, like someone seeing it for the first time, despite the fact that he was obviously from Seoul. Surely he must have seen it all before.

His nerves threatened to take over as he led the way up the stairs – his loft was in a large, refurbished house, not a fancy building of any kind, therefore not big enough to warrant an elevator – and down the hall.

“It’s nothing special,” he began, feeling it necessary to excuse the pitiful condition of his modest home as he unlocked his front door. “I’m just a student and I don’t really need much, you know?”

Jeonghan smiled. “I’m sure it’s fine. Definitely beats living at home with your parents.”

Seungcheol laughed, feeling some of the tension drain out of him. Pushing the door open, he stepped back so that Jeonghan could precede him. “Well, this is it. Home, sweet, home.”

Jeonghan walked in, turning in a circle as he looked around while Seungcheol locked up behind him.

“It’s nice,” he said. “Quaint.”

“Isn’t that another word for cheap?” Seungcheol asked, unable to keep the accusation out of his voice.

Jeonghan laughed. “No, quite the opposite actually. It means only good things. Unfortunately, snobs have made a habit of using it disdainfully so societal connotations have changed over the years.”

Seungcheol stared at him for a moment. “Wow. Do you realize how…teacher-ly you just sounded?”

Jeonghan laughed again. “I think I would’ve liked to be a teacher. Maybe in another life.”

“Why not this one?”

Jeonghan shrugged but didn’t say anything as he wandered over to Seungcheol’s bed.

 _There he goes being weird again_.

This time, Seungcheol decided to press. “You could teach language or literature. You certainly seem to have a knack for vocabulary.”

Jeonghan shrugged again. “Maybe. I do read a lot. It’s about all I ever do.”

Seungcheol frowned at his words. “You don’t play outside at all? Some hoops with friends, or kicking around a soccer ball?”

Jeonghan opened his mouth as if to say something, seemed to reconsider and instead settled for a flat, “No.”

 _Okay then…_ If he didn’t want to kill the mood, he needed to let it go right then and there.

_Ask me when the sun comes up._

And by God, he would. Before Jeonghan left his apartment, he would get some answers. Until then…

Shrugging off his coat, Seungcheol threw it onto the sofa in his living-room – it was an open-floor plan so it was really just one large room with different sections where individual rooms would have been – and went into the kitchen.

“Can I get you something to drink?” he offered.

“Just water, please,” Jeonghan replied, coughing softly as he did so.

Seungcheol heard him sniffle again and snatched up a box of tissues on his way back to the bed with the water.

“Are you coming down with a cold or something?” he asked gently, handing Jeonghan the water and tissues.

Jeonghan shook his head, blowing his nose before taking a sip of water. “I feel fine. Might just be the chill or allergies. I’m not usually out this late.”

A quick glance at the bedside clock told him that it was 3:30am now. The hours sure seemed to be passing quickly.

“Can I get you something for that then? I think I have some cold and flu tabs somewhere. I could look for them.”

Jeonghan shook his head again. “I prefer to let it ride itself out rather than medicate for every little thing. Don’t worry about it.”

“You must be the only one in all of Seoul who thinks that way,” Seungcheol muttered.

Jeonghan merely chuckled and took another sip of water.

He seemed a little paler now than before and Seungcheol couldn’t help worrying about him. If he was unwell…

“Seungcheol,” Jeonghan said abruptly, placing the bottle of water and box of tissues on the floor beside the bed.

“Uh…yeah?”

Jeonghan held his arms up to him. “Come here.”

Blushing, Seungcheol stepped into the circle of Jeonghan’s arms, obediently leaning down when Jeonghan reached up to wrap his arms around his neck.

The first brush of their lips sent electricity down his spine. So did the second, and the third, and…

They started off tentatively, neither one wanting to rush things it seemed. Jeonghan was a bit awkward, the way he moved hesitantly and his teeth unintentionally getting in the way, and Seungcheol couldn’t help wondering if he’d ever even kissed anyone before.

Jeonghan pulling him down on top of him as he fell back onto the bed had that thought flying out of his head. What he lacked in technique, he certainly made up for in enthusiasm.

Seungcheol sent a silent vote of thanks to his parents for getting him the full-size bed that he’d wanted so badly.

It didn’t take long before they found a rhythm that worked for them and then the pace picked up quite a bit. Jeonghan’s hands were everywhere all at once: one minute they were in his hair, tugging and make him groan out loud, the next they were sliding along his bare skin beneath his clothes.

Perhaps the fact that he hadn’t had sex in a long time, even before the breakup, had something to do with it but Seungcheol got rock hard a little too quickly and he knew that if he didn’t get the show on the road soon, he would embarrass himself and ruin the night.

It was with that in mind that he caught Jeonghan’s hands in his and pulled back. He looked down into Jeonghan’s eyes, took in his dilated pupils, swollen lips and flushed cheeks, and decided he needed to get all up on that A.S.A.P.

Releasing Jeonghan’s hands, he rolled to his feet and quickly began shedding his clothes.

A flush climbed high in Jeonghan’s cheeks but that didn’t stop him from watching. He started to rise up, to stand, but Seungcheol gently pushed him back down.

“Let me.”

Unlike with himself, he took his time with Jeonghan, revealing his body piece by piece.

He was even paler and thinner than he’d looked in the over-sized clothing and there were faint marks and bruises scattered across his body.

It was on the tip of his tongue to ask about them but he stopped himself in time, reminding himself that the sun would be rising soon enough. Answers could wait.

When Jeonghan was completely naked, his shy blush creeping down his neck to his shoulders, Seungcheol kissed him, lowering himself on top of him again.

Once more, he let Jeonghan set the pace, giving him time to get used to his weight, the feel of their skin sliding against one another; giving him carte blanch to touch Seungcheol however he pleased.

Eventually, Jeonghan’s thighs fell open; one leg curving around Seungcheol’s hip as they began to grind into each other.

Jeonghan’s breathing was getting pretty laboured as the kiss dragged on, his skin layered with a fine sheen of sweat, and Seungcheol was afraid he too would come before they actually did anything.

Deciding it was time to really get down to business, he reached over to his bed-side draw and grabbed what he needed.

It only took pressing one finger to Jeonghan’s entrance to confirm that he had in fact never done this before.

He was a virgin.

Before Seungcheol could even think about pulling his hand back, though, Jeonghan’s fingers wrapped around his wrist and guided Seungcheol’s finger into himself.

Seungcheol was shocked, his eyes locked with Jeonghan’s. He was clearly in pain, wincing from the sting of being breached for the first time, but he was also obviously determined. He didn’t release Seungcheol’s wrist until the finger was fully embedded in him. Then he fell back against the bed, breathing heavily. His skin was even more flushed now, and warm: almost to the point of feverish.

Seungcheol remained frozen, still struck dumb by Jeonghan’s boldness. Eventually, he got his mind back in the game and started wiggling his finger around, sliding in and out by minor increments before he felt that Jeonghan was comfortable enough to withstand repeated entry.

It took a while and by the end it was still obvious that Jeonghan wasn’t quite as comfortable as he should be for them to go all the way. He wanted Seungcheol, though, even told him as much, so Seungcheol slid on his condom and coated his member and Jeonghan’s hole with as much lube as he could manage.

He still marveled at the fact that this heavenly creature wanted him. Why, out of all the people in the club, did Jeonghan choose him? He’d had so many other options. Hell, even Jinwoo-hyung would’ve gladly taken him home and unlike Seungcheol, he had a lot more experience. He would’ve been able to put him at ease without trying and make it a night that Jeonghan would never forget.

As he re-settled between Jeonghan’s spread legs, lining himself up to his entrance, Seungcheol couldn’t resist asking, “Are you sure about this?”

Jeonghan lifted his hands and threaded his features through Seungcheol’s slightly damp hair. He trailed his fingertips down the side of his cheek, the bridge of his nose, across his lips, before finally settling his hands loosely around Seungcheol’s neck. He looked directly into Seungcheol’s eyes, a soft smile curving his lips.

“I trust you.”

 

The first thing Seungcheol did when he woke up suddenly was to kick off the covers. It was too hot: he felt like he was suffocating. He must have forgotten to turn on the A/C again.

He had a habit of burying himself beneath the covers and pressing his face to his bedmate’s back. His girlfriend had hated it but Jeonghan didn’t seem to mind. He hadn’t pushed him off anyway.

_Speaking of…_

A slow smile began spreading across his lips, the memory of the past few hours coming back to him.

He still couldn’t believe that it had happened; that Jeonghan was even now curled onto his side, sleeping in Seungcheol’s bed. _His_ bed!

He reached out, placing his hand in the middle of Jeonghan’s back…and immediately snatched it back, a frown clouding his features.

Jeonghan was burning up.

That must’ve been what woke him. Jeonghan’s body-heat combined with the covers had created a sauna-effect.

Seungcheol’s eyes trailed down the length of Jeonghan’s body, his frown deepening.

There were bruises on his arms, hips and thighs that hadn’t been there before they fell asleep, he was pretty sure.

What the hell was going on?

An unsteady breath drew his gaze upward and for a second he thought it was a wheeze. His little sister was asthmatic and often had bouts of wheezing. If that was the case, Seungcheol would have to go out and buy an inhaler or some Ventolin tablets or something because he didn’t keep those things on hand.

He pressed his ear to Jeonghan’s fevered back and listened. When he heard the sound again, he drew back, concern creasing his features.

That was no wheeze.

Jeonghan’s breathing was choppy and every time he exhaled, a shaky, gasping sound came out, like he was struggling to get air into his lungs. Something was very wrong with him.

“Jeonghan?” he said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder.

He wasn’t surprised when he didn’t get a response. If he was ill he was probably deep asleep while his body fought the virus.

Gently, he rolled him onto his back. He gasped when he saw Jeonghan’s face.

He didn’t know if it was possible for someone to be hot and cold at the same time but that’s how Jeonghan felt when he touched his face and neck. His skin was clammy and cold with sweat yet an immense heat radiated from him. His eyes were open, mere slits, but he seemed to be awake.

“Jeonghan, are you okay?”

 _Smart question, Seungcheol. He is very obviously_ not _okay!_

Either Jeonghan had the flu to beat all flus or something very serious was wrong with him.

“I’m calling an ambulance,” he said, rolling off the bed and reaching for his pants on the floor.

Jeonghan shook his head and opened his mouth to say something but he erupted into a coughing fit before any words could come out, one hand moving to cover his mouth as the other clutched his chest.

When he moved his hand from his mouth, Seungcheol could swear that he saw speckles of red on his pale skin and his features were creased with pain.

No, he most definitely was _not_ okay.

When the operator answered, he told them that someone was in respiratory distress and quickly gave his address. He’d had to call the ambulance for his sister a couple times before so this wasn’t his first rodeo.

When he hung up, he dragged his clothes back on before piling Jeonghan’s on the foot of the bed. He tried to be gentle as he re-dressed him, not wanting the ambulance to come and find him in his current nude state, but it seemed like no matter where he touched, Jeonghan winced in pain. His skin appeared to be extra sensitive.

To say that Seungcheol was confused was an understatement. Whatever was going on with Jeonghan was far beyond his comprehension and ability to handle.

He sat beside Jeonghan in silence while they waited for help to arrive, stroking his wet, stringy hair. Eventually, Jeonghan fell asleep.

He was still asleep when there was a knock at his door.

He quickly got up to let them in, standing out of the way as they moved over to the bed.

“Is that…” One paramedic began, while the other sighed and said, “Geezus, Jeonghan. What did you do to yourself this time?”

Seungcheol’s eyes widened in surprise. “Do you…know him?”

The first paramedic looked at him sympathetically. “Everyone knows Jeonghan.”

“It’s not the first time he’s run away,” the second one supplied, a clear note of disapproval in his voice.

Seungcheol frowned in confusion. “I don’t…I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

The two paramedics exchanged a knowing look before the first one said gently, “I think you’d better come with us.”

Seungcheol had been planning to anyway but now, he wasn’t so sure he should. There was something about the way they talked, the cryptic undertones, that reminded him of the way Jeonghan had spoken. In riddles.

Something deep inside, his flight instincts perhaps, told him to run away as far as he could from Jeonghan and his situation. Whatever the truth was, it had nothing to do with him. He could walk away and not look back. He owed him nothing.

“Are you coming?” Paramedic #2 – the obviously no-nonsense, “you’re wasting my time” one – stood in the doorway looking back at him. He hadn’t even realized that they’d strapped Jeonghan onto the stretcher and were already halfway out the door.

“Uh…yeah.” He grabbed his keys, made sure that he had his phone, and locked up behind them before following them down the stairs.

The ride to the hospital was a blessedly short one – one of the reasons his parents had chosen his apartment – but tense nonetheless. Paramedic #1 rode in the back with Jeonghan while Paramedic #2 drove and he kept shooting Seungcheol pitying looks that he didn’t know how to interpret. Why would this absolute stranger feel sorry for him? He also looked like he wanted to say something but was biting his tongue, for whatever reason. It had Seungcheol’s nerves on edge.

When they pulled up in front of the hospital, there was a flurry of activity as doctors came rushing out and Jeonghan – who was still out but breathing easier with the aid of an oxygen mask – was transferred to a gurney and wheeled in.

Seungcheol expected them to take him to the ground-floor emergency room, where he knew patients were usually assessed during intake, so he was surprised when the team headed straight for the elevator.

“You’d better follow them if you want to stay with him.”

Paramedic #2 had appeared beside him without him realizing. His tone had softened, which raised the hair on the back of Seungcheol’s neck for some reason.

Without a word, he rushed off towards the elevator bank but the doors were closing just as he skidded to a halt. He checked the floor and sprinted for the stairs instead.

It didn’t take him long to get to the fifth floor and he ignored the curious looks of staff and visitors as he raced down the hall. It was when he realized that he didn’t know where he was going that he figured maybe he should slow down and ask for directions.

He was just about to do so when he saw a family outside of a room down a short hallway. The man had his arm around his crying wife while a young woman, who seemed to be around his age or a little older, stood a little off to the side, her arms wrapped around her middle as if she were trying to hold herself together.

Unconsciously, he started making his way down the hall. When he came upon them, he didn’t know what to say but he was sure that he’d found the right room/family at least.

Jeonghan’s sister looked _just_ like him.

“Um…”

Before he could properly organize his thoughts into words, Jeonghan’s mother tore out of her husband’s arms and spun on him.

“Was it you?” she accused, her voice raw with emotion. “Did you do this to my son?”

Seungcheol took a quick step back, feeling like he’d been slapped in the face. He had not been prepared for that.

Although, maybe he _should_ have. If what he and Jeonghan had done had made him sick – _sicker_ – somehow…

 _Oh, God_ , he thought frantically, colour seeping into his cheeks. If they examined Jeonghan, they would know _exactly_ what they’d been up to.

“No, mother,” Jeonghan’s sister snapped, stepping up beside him. Seungcheol didn’t know what was behind it but he could feel anger rolling off of her in waves. “If there’s anyone to blame, anyone at all, it’s you.”

“JungAh…” her father cautioned.

“No! She needs to hear this.” She took another step towards her mother, though she did gentle her tone slightly as she continued. “How many times has he said that he didn’t want this? That he doesn’t want to be here? Yet rather than grant him the dignity of living his life as he chooses, you had him ruled mentally incompetent and took away his right to make his own decisions.”

“I just don’t want to lose him,” Jeonghan’s mother said tearfully.

“Right. _You_ don’t want to lose him. But what about what _he_ wants? I know that you love him, Mom. We all do. But put yourself in his shoes for once. Just _once_. Hasn’t he been through enough? Are you going to make him suffer all the way to the end?”

Jeonghan’s mother collapsed against her husband, burying her face in his chest as deep sobs wracked her small frame.

Jeonghan’s father looked down at his daughter with a stern expression but didn’t say a word. Seungcheol didn’t know if that meant he agreed with her.

They stood silently as a group, if they could be called that, until the doctors and nurses filed out.

One doctor, Dr. Choi according to his name-plate, stopped to speak with them. Or rather, Jeonghan’s mother since apparently she was the one calling the shots.

“He’s resting now but tests show that he has pneumonia. His cell count is alarmingly low. Mrs. Yoon…” Dr. Choi paused, as if considering his words carefully. “I have to tell you that we’re running out of time here. If we’re going to put him on a ventilator, we need to do it now. A few more hours and it’ll be too late. I’ll give you a few minutes to think about it. Let the nurse at the desk know what you decide.”

Jeonghan’s father nodded and thanked the doctor on behalf of his wife, who seemed incapable of speech at the moment, before guiding her into the room. Jeonghan’s sister followed and Seungcheol trailed behind her, though he stopped just inside the door, trying to make himself invisible.

He watched as Jeonghan’s mother stood beside him, touching his face and his hair, kissing his forehead.

Jeonghan was hooked up to what seemed like a million machines. There were so many lines running here and there that, apart from the I.V. and the oxygen line in his nose, Seungcheol couldn’t tell what was plugged into to what.

He looked peaceful, though. His skin was still flushed a light pink but he wasn’t sweating anymore and he seemed to be breathing easier, the oxygen obviously helping. He simply looked like he was asleep.

Seungcheol leaned against the wall, just watching Jeonghan: the reassuring rise and fall of his chest. His family wasn’t talking: his parents were off to one side and his sister was on the other, arms folded across her middle once more. It was like a Mexican standoff: mother versus daughter. His father seemed to be Switzerland: neutral territory. Either that or he’d simply decided to keep his opinions to himself and stay out of the cross-fire.

Silence reigned for a while, longer than the few minutes the doctor had advised. It was Jeonghan’s sister who eventually broke it.

“Mom,” she said sharply, drawing her parents’ attention. “You need to go out there and tell them what you want to do.”

Her mother, eyes and cheeks still shining brightly with tears, gave her a look that would have melted Seungcheol on the spot had it been directed at him. Jeonghan’s sister – JungAh – didn’t flinch, though. She was probably quite used to it, he reasoned.

After a few more minutes, Jeonghan’s mother rose, pressed a lingering kiss to his forehead, then slowly shuffled out of the room, her husband on her heels.

When they were gone, JungAh released an audible sigh, loosening her arms ‘til they hung limply at her sides.

Digging deep for courage, Seungcheol peeled himself off the wall and tentatively made his way to the foot of Jeonghan’s bed.

“Is there anything I can do?” he offered quietly.

“Not unless you have a spare set of lungs,” Jungah replied wryly. She winced after the words left her mouth. “Sorry. I’m just…tired. We all are, Hannie most of all.” She reached over and affectionately tweaked Jeonghan’s toe through the sheet. “Fight’s almost over, though.” Dropping her hand, she looked over at Seungcheol. “Why don’t you sit with him for a while? He probably won’t be awake for some time but he shouldn’t be alone when he does wake up. I’m going to talk my parents into going home and at least having a shower and changing their clothes if not getting something to eat. They’ve been haunting this place for far too long.” She pressed her nose to her sweater and sniffed before adding, “I think I need to take my own advice.”

Seungcheol couldn’t help the small laugh that trickled up his throat.

JungAh smiled and winked at him before sobering. “I’m glad you found him.”

Surprised, Seungcheol opened his mouth to correct her but she was already walking toward the door.

When they were alone, he continued standing for a few more minutes, part of him afraid that Jeonghan’s mother would come stomping through the door and kick him out, but when it became obvious that no one was going to return, he gingerly made his way around the bed and settled into the chair beside Jeonghan.

Seungcheol still didn’t know what was wrong with him but it was obvious that his condition was dire.

A thick lump formed in his throat at the thought. It was hard to think about losing Jeonghan when he’d only _just_ met him.

He pulled out his phone and typed the few keywords he’d managed to glean from conversation, plus the symptoms he’d witnessed himself, into Google.

_Cystic Fibrosis._

It was one of those illnesses that popped up from time to time, maybe in a television commercial or in a pamphlet at the clinic, but he didn’t really know anything about it and had never really wondered.

He wanted to know now, though. He _needed_ to.

Seungcheol got lost in his reading, unaware of how much time passed. Hours later, when he was finally done after visiting too many websites to count, cross-checking their data to make sure that it was solid, he was surprised to find that he had tears in his eyes.

He’d wanted answers, hadn’t he? _When the sun rose_. He’d repeated it in his head over and over, like a mantra. He’d looked forward to it. Had he known what the sunrise would bring; what those answers would mean…

Setting his phone down, he picked up Jeonghan’s hand from where it lay on the bed beside his prone figure, and held it between both of his. He rested his forehead gently on top of their joined hands, silent tears splashing onto their skin, as he searched for a way to get his mind around what he was sure that Jeonghan’s mother had finally had to accept.

Jeonghan had never had a chance.

 

 

Jeonghan opened his eyes slowly, a pro now at the temporary disorientation of waking up in a strange place.

Except…hospital rooms were more of a home to him than his house ever was. He figured he’d spent more time there than he ever had in his own bedroom.

He took stock of his body, a small smile curving his lips when he felt absolutely nothing. They’d given him the good stuff this time and a strong dose of it to boot. He probably wouldn’t stay awake for very long if the way his eyelids kept threatening to close was any indication.

He was still in pain but for once it wasn’t physical. He was simply emotionally and mentally fatigued. Was that even a thing? Even if it wasn’t, it still was to him. He was tired of fighting, each day a struggle whether it was with his own body or his mother. Enough was enough.

Eyes wide open now, he was surprised to see that his family was nowhere in sight. Usually, his mother refused to leave his side, even on his good days, though admittedly there weren’t many of those.

But the fact that he’d awoken without a tube down his throat, that he’d awakened _at all_ , meant that his mother had finally decided to do what he’d wanted all along. _Shocking_.

There _was_ a shiny, black head bent over his hand, though: weeping softly, if the faint sniffling and hiccupping sounds he was hearing were anything to go by. He smiled when he realized who it was.

He was probably a bastard for doing what he’d done, making his parents worry and dragging Seungcheol into this mess, but he’d felt like he was stifling in the confines of his room, doctors and nurses poking and prodding and nagging him day in and day out, and if he hadn’t gotten away for at least a little while…Well, he might have done something that would’ve negated his mother’s choices altogether.

So he’d waited for the nurses’ shift change then stolen the patient next door’s clothes – his mother had taken away all of his and his I.D. and phone after the last time he’d run away – and set off with nowhere in mind. However, after walking around for a while his energy began to flag. He wasn’t used to being outside; certainly not after midnight. He’d just happened upon the club and thought _“why the hell not?”_ before joining the long line of people waiting to get in. He was so sure he would be rejected – JungAh had told him about how selective those fancy clubs were about their patrons – but the bouncer had only taken one look at his face and moved the rope to allow him entry. It was the only time since he’d grown his hair out that he was thankful for people’s superficial narrow-mindedness.

Things had only gotten better from there.

The few hours he’d spent with Seungcheol were undoubtedly the best of his life. Even if he wasn’t currently knocking on death’s door, he was sure that, even had they gone their separate ways after, he would’ve still remembered him for a long time to come. One might argue that if he hadn’t been sick, he wouldn’t have run away and ended up in the club on that particular night in the first place but Jeonghan chose to believe that they still would have met some way, somehow. Fate would’ve lent them a helping hand if need be. Maybe it already had.

He’d managed to do everything in one night that he’d wanted to do for years and it was all thanks to the young man beside him. He’d had his first alcoholic drink; he’d gone on a date, albeit an informal one; he’d even lost his virginity. _That_ hadn’t really been part of his plan but he didn’t regret a moment of it. It had been awkward, yet still sweet somehow. It had hurt – _Lord_ , had it hurt – but it was _supposed_ to, he knew, and he’d reveled in the pain because that pain was the only pain in his entire life that had been of his choosing.

Smiling down at Seungcheol’s bowed head, he cleared his throat despite the discomfort that immediately flared in his chest – which he knew from experience was actually pain that he simply couldn’t feel as a result of the meds – and croaked, “Why are you crying?”

Seungcheol raised his head slowly, eyes red-rimmed and swollen, shining with fresh tears that had yet to spill. He seemed surprised to hear Jeonghan’s voice but he didn’t acknowledge it. Instead, he asked huskily,

“Why me? Why did you choose me? There were so many other people. Why, out of everyone in the club last night…” His voice broke on a sob and he squeezed his eyes shut against the tears that trickled down his ruddy cheeks.

Jeonghan’s heart ached for him, guilt ripping him apart inside. What he’d done to Seungcheol wasn’t unlike what his mother had been doing to him. He’d put himself, his wants and desires, ahead of any possible consequences Seungcheol might incur as a result. Still…even knowing that, he couldn’t completely regret his decision. Not when it had made him feel alive – not his heart beating but truly, _really_ alive – for the first time in his entire life.

“I looked around for quite a bit before I found you,” he rasped. “Then I saw you and I thought…No, I _knew_.” He paused, a hacking cough shaking his body before he managed to force a smile and continue. “You were the person I wanted to spend my last day with.”

And it _would_ be his last day. Whether he’d died on his own terms or he’d been hooked up to the ventilator and sedated like his mother had wanted, he’d known that he was never going to see another sunrise.

Seungcheol opened his eyes and looked at him but the tears kept coming, flowing even heavier now.

He dropped his forehead to their clasped hands again, gasping as he fought to speak amidst the tears that wouldn’t stop.

“I think I could have loved you,” he whispered brokenly.

Jeonghan smiled sadly, tears pricking his own eyes. He clenched his fingers around Seungcheol’s as tightly as he could manage with the little strength he had.

“I think I could have loved you too.”

 

 

Seungcheol’s tears dried up eventually.

He didn’t think he had any right to cry honestly – he wasn’t the one who was dying, after all – though it didn’t stop him from wanting to. He figured that there was time enough for that after Jeonghan… _After_.

They talked about this and that, nothing in particular and everything all at once. When it became too much of an effort for Jeonghan to continue talking, his breathing becoming shallower and raspier, a nasty wet sound rattling in his chest, Seungcheol continued on his own. He told him about school, about the lecturers that he liked, the ones he hated and what he intended to do when he graduated.

He almost stopped talking at that point because it felt wrong, somehow, to talk about his future when Jeonghan didn’t have one. One look at Jeonghan’s drowsy, smiling face had kept him going, though.

And when Jeonghan slipped back into unconsciousness, he kept on talking, his hand still linked with Jeonghan’s. It was the only thing that kept him from bursting into tears again.

He must have drifted off at some point because he awoke some time later to the sound of a monitor beeping crazily and muffled sobs.

He started to lift his head but realized that Jeonghan’s hand was actually on top of it. Had he woken up again when he’d nodded off?

Gently, he circled Jeonghan’s wrist with his fingers and lifted his hand off of his head, setting it beside his body.

He looked around the room, seeing Jeonghan’s mother crying into his father’s chest again; his sister holding herself together once more. He hadn’t heard them come in. He must have been sleeping more deeply than he realized.

When nurses and doctors came rushing in, he moved aside: flattening himself against the wall to stay out of the way. Only then did he allow himself to look at Jeonghan.

He was white as a sheet now, lips blood-less. The rise and fall of his chest was barely perceptible.

He seemed at peace, though: like a sleeping angel frozen in time.

He was lovely…and he was gone.

Seungcheol didn’t know how he knew but he did.

The monitor beeped one last time – a kind of farewell, if you will – before the loud, grating whine of the _flat-line_ filled the room.

No one made a move to resuscitate him; no one touched his body at all. Dr. Choi announced the time of death and a nurse wrote it down on Jeonghan’s chart.

“I’m sorry,” he heard Dr. Choi say softly, before he and the nurses left the room.

As soon as they were gone, he saw someone fall to their knees out of the corner of his eye. He was surprised, when he looked, to see that it was JungAh, not her mother like he would have expected.

She’d been strong for her brother until the end, he thought sadly. Now that he was gone, she didn’t need to be strong anymore.

Somehow finding it in herself to set aside her own grief, Mrs. Yoon knelt beside her daughter, wrapping her arms around her shaking frame, pressing kisses into her hair. Soon, Mr. Yoon followed, holding his ladies, what was left of his family now, within his strong arms.

Looking at them, Seungcheol felt like an outsider. This was a private moment, an _intimate_ moment, of a family who had just lost a loved one.

But as his eyes shifted back to Jeonghan, tears once more tracking down his cheeks, he knew that he was exactly where he was supposed to be.

 

  

** Epilogue **

 

 

The wind whipped at his coat and he stuck his hands deeper into his pockets, pressing his arms more firmly against his sides.

It was an unusually windy day. Seungcheol figured that Jeonghan would approve. He’d seemed to like it when they’d walked along the River that night, two weeks ago. Who knows…Maybe he was there, making his own wind effects. Jeonghan seemed the type to come to his own funeral.

It was hard to believe, sometimes, that he’d been gone for two weeks already. It still felt like just yesterday. He could still remember meeting him at the bar in the club, wondering if someone was playing a trick on him. He could feel the heat from his skin, the taste of his lips, as they’d made love. (He wouldn’t demean what they’d shared by calling it simple sex.) He could still see him lying there in his hospital bed: an angel too good for this world so he’d been called home early.

He hadn’t grasped just how long it took for someone to die. Realistically speaking, he knew that it could’ve dragged on even longer but from the time that Jeonghan had fallen ill at his place to when he’d left the hospital shortly after he’d passed away, almost twenty-four hours had passed. Seungcheol had been shocked, when he’d realized, that he’d spent an entire day sitting beside a dying man’s bed.

He also couldn’t remember getting home that day, and not _his_ home but his parents’ home. Somehow his feet – and probably a bus or two, though he couldn’t recollect getting on any – had taken him from the hospital all the way to the outskirts of Seoul where, upon his mother answering the door with a surprised expression on her face, he’d collapsed in tears, blubbering unintelligibly. It had taken both his parents to get him in the house and another few hours before he’d stopped crying, his body finally spent. He’d lain in his small, childhood bed – how he’d gotten there, he didn’t know – staring at the cracked paint on the wall.

Eventually, Jinwoo had come over, having heard that he was back home, to find out how the date had gone. He’d gotten quite a different story, though.

 _“I never should’ve pushed you to go with him,”_ he’d said, sounding apologetic. His eyes had seemed extra bright and shiny, like there were tears in them. It had made him realize that in all the years he’d known him, he’d never seen Jinwoo cry.

 _“It’s fine,”_ he’d replied. He couldn’t really explain to Jinwoo why he was truly upset. He’d still been processing his emotions at the time. It was easier to just let him think what he wanted.

A week and a half passed before the call came. It was JungAh, calling to invite him to Jeonghan’s funeral and memorial service. She’d gotten his number from Paramedic #1 – who he’d given it to during the drive to the hospital for filing purposes – and apologized, actually _apologized_ , for not calling sooner. As if she hadn’t just lost her brother: her only sibling. While her mother had had no choice but to finally accept that Jeonghan was gone, she’d explained, it had taken her a bit longer to resign herself to putting her baby in the ground. He imagined that it was a difficult decision for any parent.

So here he was, in a brand new suit that his mother had bought him for this very occasion. She hadn’t asked too many questions once he’d finally explained what had brought him home bawling like a baby but she seemed to understand that despite their brief acquaintance, Jeonghan was important to him.

And he was. It hurt to think about him, he still got tears in his eyes when he did, but he wasn’t ready to stop just yet. One day…maybe.

“Thanks for coming,” a soft voice said from behind him.

Looking over his shoulder, he saw JungAh approaching.

He sent her a small smile. “Thanks for inviting me.”

“He would’ve wanted you here,” she said matter-of-factly.

It was just the two of them now. He’d been standing there by himself for God knew how long, looking down at the silver and mahogany finish of Jeonghan’s coffin. They hadn’t lowered him into the ground yet. It made him feel like Jeonghan was still there, if that made any sense.

Mrs. Yoon had held it together like a trooper during the service at the church and the walk through the cemetery to the plot. Once the Priest had started giving his sendoff, though, her stoic façade had begun to crumble. Perhaps Mrs. Yoon had accepted that Jeonghan was gone and made she’d even resigned herself to him being buried but _seeing_ it…well, that was another story.

Seungcheol kind of understood. The service had been open-casket but he had kept his distance. He’d already seen Jeonghan dead; that was a sight he wasn’t likely to ever forget. But he preferred to remember him as he was in his mind: laughing, head tilted back, hair shimmering in the light, eyes scrunched, mouth wide like he was trying to suck the entire world into himself.

Seungcheol had seen JungAh hustle both her parents off and away as soon as the Priest finished speaking. He’d assumed that she’d left with them so he was a little surprised to see her back.

“I wanted to say goodbye in private,” she explained, as if reading his thoughts.

He nodded. He’d felt the same. He didn’t have anything important to say, no grand gesture to make really; he just wanted a few moments with Jeonghan before he said his own goodbye.

“I’m sorry you got dragged into this,” she continued. “That was very selfish of him. He’d never been selfish before… He couldn’t have chosen a worse time to start.”

Taken aback, Seungcheol cleared his throat. “It’s fine…”

_You were the person I wanted to spend my last day with._

It was hard not to be forgiving when someone deemed you worthy of spending their last day on earth with them. How could he be anything _but_ fine with it?

Silence lapsed between them and Seungcheol allowed his mind to wander.

If a second date, a _real_ date, had been in the cards, he wondered what Jeonghan would’ve wanted to do. He’d seemed interested in any and everything but Seungcheol remembered him saying that he hadn’t been to the cinema since he was young, before he’d started getting sick regularly. Maybe he would’ve taken him to dinner and a movie. Somewhere nice and fancy. He would’ve had to use all of his savings to afford it, maybe take on a couple extra shifts a week at the student services center on campus where he worked part-time, but…Jeonghan would’ve been worth it.

“Thanks again for coming, Seungcheol,” JungAh said, breaking him out of his thoughts. “I wish we had met under different… _better_ circumstances.”

She flashed him a small smile, a sad one, which he assumed was all she could muster on a day like this, before turning on her heels and beginning to walk away.

A sudden, unexplained sense of panic bloomed in Seungcheol’s chest and he heard himself calling out to her before he could bite his tongue.

He wasn’t ready yet. It was too soon. Too soon to say goodbye; too soon to let go.

The thought, if he was honest with himself, terrified him.

“Can you tell me about him?”

JungAh froze, eyes widening in surprise, and for a moment, Seungcheol feared that she would reject him.

 _“Go home, Seungcheol. Go back to your real life. Forget about him.”_ He could practically hear her saying those words.

When a smile, a real one this time, curved her lips, the tension drained out of his body, replaced by a warm serenity. And a strange sense of welcome; _belonging_.

“Sure. I’ll even buy you breakfast,” she said with a hint of mischief, the expression on her face so much like Jeonghan’s that his heart skipped a beat.

Turning back to the casket, he briefly stared at the misshapen, multi-hued bundle he’d placed on top of the shiny surface.

He’d never thought to ask Jeonghan what his favourite flower was or if he even had one and it hadn’t occurred to him to call and ask JungAh, not that it was important enough to bother her about. Instead, he’d looked up the meaning of various flowers online and chosen the ones that matched the way he felt. That morning he’d walked into the flower-shop and asked for one of each: a pink carnation, a deep red carnation, a red daisy, a snapdragon stalk, a dog rose, a tea rose and an everlasting. The florist had given him a funny look when he’d voiced his request but she hadn’t commented and she’d even put it all together in a nice clear-plastic wrap with tiny, white rose decals and a big pink bow.

Maybe the next time he came, he could bring a huge bouquet of Jeonghan’s favourite flowers. For now, though, he hoped that Jeonghan would understand his intentions, even if Jeonghan didn’t know exactly what each flower stood for or even if Seungcheol had gotten their meanings wrong altogether. He hoped that the message, at least, got through.

And hopefully, he thought with a smile, casting one last glance at the obscenely big bow before turning to walk to where JungAh waited, Jeonghan liked pink.

**Author's Note:**

> I've never gotten this emotional while writing a death fic (listening to the song while writing/reading certainly did not help) so if you shed a tear or two, just know that you're not alone. Thanks for reading.
> 
> P.S: I know that Cystic Fibrosis is a very complex, debilitating disease but I didn't want to get bogged down in technicalities so I tried to keep the descriptions and symptoms, etc., to a minimum.


End file.
